


Dandelion Fluff and Sweet Milk Breath

by beebot



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Adorable Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Comfort, Comfort No Hurt, Connor Deserves Happiness, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Dogs, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Gen, Nothing Hurts, Post-Peaceful Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:14:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24552199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beebot/pseuds/beebot
Summary: Connor stumbles through social interactions and makes a new friend. Hank approves.((Previously titled “What do Androids Long For?”))
Relationships: Hank Anderson & Connor
Comments: 9
Kudos: 186





	Dandelion Fluff and Sweet Milk Breath

**Author's Note:**

> One of my kindergarteners brought her labradoodle puppy to class and I remembered how much I love dogs. That inspired this!

Something was up with Connor. He was staring at his monitor, and it would almost seem like he was engrossed in his work except for the fact that he’d been staring at the same page for five minutes. His LED was whirling yellow - not the constant blare of stressed-yellow or the thoughtful processing of inconstant yellow or the urgent distress of mixed red and yellow, but an uncertain yellow-blue that suggested mixed feelings. Blue, Hank recalled, was calmness, happiness, and stability, and mixed with yellow? That probably meant he was thinking deeply about something good or, at least, something that was not upsetting. It couldn’t be the latest case, since Connor would have definitely let him know immediately about any revelations about the triple homicide they’d been looking into. It had to be something unrelated to work. That was a first: Connor was deeply distracted from his work by good thoughts.

  
Really distracted, since he apparently hadn’t noticed Hank studying him.  
  


“Hey, Con, what’s got you bothered?”  
  


Connor jolted almost imperceptibly, sitting a little straighter in his chair. “Nothing, Lieutenant. I apologize for the lapse in concentration. I will improve my efficiency.”

“Cut that out, I don’t care about your efficiency. You’re allowed to get a little distracted. I just want to know what by.”

Connor looked a little embarrassed and fidgeted with his coin. His gaze flicked over to the right, towards the far wall, and then back to his computer.

Hank heard a laugh from over near the coffee machines at the far wall, in the direction Connor had looked. He glanced over, to see that Tina was showing Ben and one of the PM700s that had stayed on after the revolution - Mary, he thought? - something on her phone. Connor had looked over too, and that intent look was back.

_Oh._

Hank gave him a half smile. “Eavesdropping, huh?”

Connor gave him an affronted look. “Officer Chen has a voice that carries easily, and I was built with superior senses. I am not _trying_ to listen in.”

“Well, alright then, but she always has a voice that carries. What’s so interesting today?”

Connor looked aside and fidgeted again, the coin playing over his fingers. He flicked it back and forth between his hands four times. “...She says her sister’s dog had puppies three and a half weeks ago. She saw them yesterday and has been showing photos today.”

Hank’s smile softened. Tina was talking with their coworkers at the coffee machines, which made casual conversation easy - for a human. Anyone could pretend to be going over for the coffee and ‘happen’ to join in, making it seem natural. But this was the sort of interaction Connor had always seemed to struggle with. Before deviating, he had seemed too stilted and forced, and now he was just too damn awkward and self-conscious to even try. Overthinking things, that was the kid’s problem.

Hank picked up a coffee cup, gave it an appraising once-over - some old coffee residue, it’d probably be fine for another use without washing. “I think I need a coffee.” He stood up, pushing back his chair loudly, and glanced at Connor. “Well?” 

“Well?” Connor echoed, looking a little puzzled at this unusual gesture. It was outside of his standard set of work behaviours to accompany Hank to the break room.

Hank nodded meaningfully towards the coffee machines, towards Tina. “You comin’?”

The second Connor caught on, the little puzzled crease above his eyebrows disappeared and his eyes lit up. His LED went pure blue. “Yes!”

Hank strode over to the machines, casual as anything. He put his dirty mug under the coffee nozzle, hitting the button for an americano. Connor loitered nervously at the entrance, tugging at the edge of his jacket. An unsure step forward, a nervous glance at Tina, a reluctant step back. _Hopeless_ , Hank thought affectionately. He waved him over, fondly exasperated. Taking Connor by the arm, he steered him towards the group at the table. Mary gave them a half wave as they walked up. 

“Hey, what’s all this? Did Reed trip on his own shoelaces again?” Hank asked jokingly. 

Mary smiled cheerily. “No, I wish!”

“Hey, don’t be mean. He’s not that bad,” Tina said good-humoredly. She turned to Hank and Connor, looking brighter than usual. “My sister’s dog just had puppies. Want to see?” She tilted her phone so he could see a picture of seven little bundles of golden yellow fur tumbling and tottering around. 

Connor’s eyes lit up again, and he took the phone quickly from her, almost snatching it. Tina’s face froze in surprise, and Hank remembered how little they’d interacted. Since Tina was only just beginning to get used to treating androids as people, she had probably seen very little of how quirky Connor could get. “He likes dogs,” Hank offered by way of explanation. 

Connor didn’t look up, just nodding mutely, and Hank smiled a little. His boy’s LED was spinning blue; even though he wasn’t nearly as open or expressive as other androids, and he didn’t smile as easily, it was clear to see that he was totally engrossed in the dog pictures. It was nice to see him focusing on something not work-related. Tina’s bemused expression melted away to something a little kinder. “Oh, I see.” She glanced over and spoke a little louder to try and draw Connor into the conversation. “My sister can’t keep all of them, so she’s letting people come over to her house to meet them. You can visit them, if you’d like!”

Connor’s head jerked up in surprise, and he stared at Tina. “I can?” Turning to Hank with a soft, excited look, “Can we?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course we can.” Hank glanced at Tina. “Your sister have problems with androids?”

“No, she’s cool. Or, uh, she’s actually neutral, but she loves her dogs and she loves anyone who loves her dogs, so you’ll be fine. I’ll ask her when she’s free. Want me to ask about the weekend?”

“That’d be great. We really appreciate it.”

* * *

By the end of the next day, Tina had given them mixed news.   
  


“Come on over in another week,” was the message she passed on from her sister. “They’ll be even cuter by then.”

For all that Connor had been disappointed about putting it off for a week, the promise of peak cuteness made it worthwhile. He had never interacted with a baby _anything_. Nobody had ever trusted him enough to let him near human babies, and even owners of small dogs had always been reluctant to let him near. The only real time he’d been trusted near a dog was with Sumo, but that was because Hank was special. It wasn’t that Hank trusted him to not accidentally hurt the dog, Hank just… trusted him. Completely. And that felt good. And now, a coworker had vouched for him so strongly that he was going to be allowed near puppies so young they’d barely started walking? The thought gave Connor a warm, gentle feeling. 

Now, they were pulling up to Tina’s sister’s house, and Connor felt strangely restless. He rolled his quarter over his fingers, processing the emotion. It was like trepidation, but no tinge of fear. Breaking it down further, Connor found that the emotion was approximately 19% nervousness, 45% anticipation, and 34% happiness. Excitement, maybe? He mulled it over for a second, then labelled the feeling as excitement. 

Approaching the front door, Hank took the lead and rang the buzzer. An Asian woman with a slightly grown-out pixie cut opened the door, a polite smile on her face. 

Hank stepped forward. “Hello, I’m Lieutenant Hank Anderson. I’m Tina’s coworker. You’re Erin, right?”

Her eyes lit with recognition. “Yes! Tina told me you’d come by.” She shook Hank’s hand in a brisk, friendly manner, and then turned to Connor, holding out a hand.

Connor shook his head and waved a hand in a vertical, dismissive gesture of refusal. “No, I don’t…” He shifted uncomfortably and pulled back a little, folding his hands behind his back much more formally. “No thank you.”

Erin blinked, looking more bemused than anything. “Oh, uh, okay?”

“You don’t have to shake hands, but you should probably tell her your name,” Hank suggested.

Since Connor had deviated, Hank had been making a conscious effort to speak for him less. The way humans always tried to speak with him first, always looked to him to speak for Connor, like Hank was the only one worth speaking to, just… didn’t sit right with him. So, he was trying to get Connor more confident in normal conversation. He didn’t know if it was an unimportant thing and he was overthinking it, but something felt inequal about automatically taking charge of every situation. Not even letting Connor introduce himself. He didn’t even know if Connor noticed it.

Connor blinked. “Right. My name is Connor.”

She smiled politely. “It’s nice to meet you. Tina forgot to mention names, she just said to expect coworkers.” She hesitated, glancing at Connor again, then tried to revive her hospitable tone. “Come on in! Tina mentioned you’re just looking to meet the dogs? She said it’s your first time with puppies!”

They entered the house, and Hank paused with Erin in the entrance hall. Connor took another step, and then glanced between them, then down the hallway, in a move Hank was surprised to note was a touch impatient. 

“Why don’t you go on ahead, son? We’ll catch up in a minute.”

Connor gave a quick nod, then strode down the hallway. Tilting his head, he detected a squeaking sound two doors down. Inside was a tiled laundry room with a waist-high fence set up in a circle in the middle of the room. The inside of the fenced area was covered in shredded newspaper. On first glance, Connor could spot six squeaking, tumbling puppies and a tired-looking mother dog. Looking around, he spotted a moving piece of newspaper, and lifted it up gently to reveal an almost-white, cornsilk-blond puppy. 

He brushed aside some more newspaper delicately, and then stepped inside the pen onto the clear spot. He hesitated, calculating the correct course of action, then slowly knelt down and reached out. 

Rather than sniff his hand, as big dogs often did, the puppy tottered towards him and tried to climb on his shoe. It had trouble keeping its balance as it tried to climb on top of the glossy patent leather surface.

“No, that’s not— Don’t go there—” Connor quickly placed a hand under the puppy’s back legs to support it, as it looked at risk of taking a tiny tumble. To increase the puppy’s balance, he readjusted his grip, letting it rest on flat palms with fingers loosely cupping it.

He found himself actually _holding_ a puppy.

It was such a soft, fragile little thing, all dandelion fluff fur and sweet milk breath. It was so soft, so trusting, so young - Connor recalled with a touch of humour that it was just three and a half months younger than him. 

He sank into a more relaxed cross-legged sitting position and cradled the puppy gently against his chest with one hand, petting it softly with the other. It started gnawing on his fingers. 

Momentarily concerned, he quickly researched the dog’s behaviour and discovered that teething was natural and healthy. To double check that things were fine, he scanned the dogs: seven happy, healthy, 5-week-old golden retriever puppies and a healthy 4-year-old female golden retriever. 

The one he had been holding from the start let go of his fingers and began to chew on his tie.

“That’s bad for you,” Connor admonished gently, tugging the tie away. “The fibers would be bad for your digestion.”

The tiny puppy let out a squeaky bark and made an unskillful, wobbly attempt to lunge at the tie, enjoying the new game. It tumbled off his lap, almost landing on top of a nearby sibling. The other puppy started tussling with the first.

Hearing the squeaking of her puppy, the mother dog ambled over, the rest of her puppies following haphazardly, and suddenly Connor was absolutely surrounded by playful, happy dogs. 

One puppy started biting the tail of its littermate, and Connor reached forward to gently separate them, scooping the offending puppy up one-handed. It bumbled off his hand, curled up on the crook of his leg, and fell asleep. Connor froze, watching it in awe. He ran an analysis on dog behaviour to confirm his hunch: dogs fell asleep when they felt relaxed and safe. The dog felt _safe_ with him.

  
He reached out, hesitated, then stroked the little puppy’s velvety ears. It let out a little sound, and Connor stilled further. He reduced his rate of artificial respiration by 74% and sat as unwaveringly still as a machine. The dog blinked sleepily, gave Connor’s fingers a lick, then fell back asleep. 

* * *

  
From where he stood in the doorway, Hank watched Connor play with the puppies.  
  


Connor gently but firmly pried away a dog that was determined to gnaw straight through his shoe. When he held it, the puppy tried climbing up his shirt, and Connor looked comically surprised when it tried to gnaw on his jacket’s serial number. He held it a little higher up and over the left side of his chest, and it started licking his face.

Hank wished he had a camera just to capture Connor’s look of wonder and joy.

Belatedly, he remembered his smartphone had a camera somewhere in it, and he glanced away momentarily to fumble with it.

The outdated, clunky phone did not, for once, betray him and try to run an update at the worst time. It actually turned on, albeit slowly. Hank managed to get a photo of Connor with his tiny joyful smile, LED a radiant blue as the little puppy licked his face. For once, Connor looked like he was focused entirely on the moment.

Connor noticed Erin and Hank and froze up a little. He glanced at the small golden puppy he was cradling, which was now beginning to tire and fall asleep in his arms, and then back to the humans. “Can I keep holding her?” He asked Erin.

Erin smiled. “Sure thing. She seems to like you.”

Hank asked Erin, “Do you mind if we…?”

“No problem! Take as long as you like. I know it takes time to find the right fit.” Erin replied, and left.

Connor stepped out of the pen, still cradling the sleeping puppy. He gave a tiny, genuine smile that softened his eyes. “Thank you.”

Hank nodded towards the dog. “So. Is that the one?”

Connor blinked, tilting his head a fraction to the side in puzzlement. “The one…?”

“The one you want, of course.”

Connor’s eyes widened a fraction, a picture of surprise. “We’re really adopting one?”

Hank scoffed, “Of course! What sort of asshole d’you think I am, that I’d show you puppies and not let you have one.”

Connor glanced down at the dog in his arms. “Are you sure?” His LED blinked yellow for half a second, and then steadied into a back-and-forth pattern of yellow-blue. “Is...Is it really okay for me to own something alive?”

Connor’s concern was evident and genuine, and Hank felt another rush of affection. Of course, of _course_ Connor would have reservations about living things as property. He’d never said anything about Sumo, but this was clearly something that was different, something important to him.

“It’s not quite the same. Dogs love being with us, we make them happy. We’re not forcing them to be with us! Do you really think Sumo would be happier living alone on the street?”

  
  
Connor hesitated. “No, I think Sumo is happier with us. But this is different. We would be taking this puppy from its family. Is that really okay?”

  
  
“Dogs don’t have family connections like people do.”

  
  
“Actually, several studies have indicated—”

“Look, if you want to bring the puppy back to see its family once in a while, for dog playdates or somethin’, that’s fine by me,” Hank conceded. “I don’t think Erin would mind either. Far as I know, people like to walk dogs together.”

Connor tilted his head in consideration, his LED spinning a thoughtful yellow, and then nodded. “I’d like that.” The puppy stirred, then kicked a little, and Connor gently put it back down in the pen.

“Now, that’s the puppy you like, right? D’you have a name in mind?” 

“Since the dog would be ours, I figured you would want a say, too. The most popular names for female dogs in 2039 so far are Lady, Daisy, Bailey, Violet—”

“Yeah, I don’t care about popular names and the name isn’t up to me. It’s _your_ dog, Con. You pick whatever feels right to you.” 

“Tanu. I like the name Tanu.” 

“Huh, haven’t heard that one before.”

Connor broke eye contact and started making a dry-washing motion with his hands. “It is conventionally acceptable to give animals names in other languages. Tanu is a Sanskrit name meaning ‘Gift of God’, so it seems to fit human naming conventions. It’s a respectable name—”

Hank raised an eyebrow. “And?” 

Connor looked a little embarrassed at being easy to read. He said, “I saw a picture of a sea otter named Tanu that had white-blonde hair almost precisely the same shade as this dog’s hair. It was a cute otter. I like the name.” 

Hank ruffled his hair and gave him a smile. “It’s a good name, kid.”

As they headed towards the door, Connor asked, “Hank? Can we bring Sumo over before we adopt Tanu? I want to make sure that Sumo likes her too.”

“Of course, kid. That’s good thinking.”

Connor’s light was a bright, bright blue, and his eyes were glowing with something like excitement again. Hank thought back to Connor as he’d first been two months ago, so artificial and unaffected and uptight. Everything about him had seemed carefully chosen and disingenuous. Now, though, now his boy was really coming in to his own. He seemed happy. And since Connor had joined his life, Hank felt it too, more and more often. Happy.

**Author's Note:**

> “What?” I ask, as I plan out five hundred more stories that end with ‘and then they all got dogs and lived happily ever after’.
> 
> So apparently I find it really hard to write straight fluff? This exists solely because I had to write something good for Connor after my last fic.


End file.
